Mar 31 2008
Diary of a Rapist by Evan S Connell
I was at the library with no list of what i wanted to read, so was just browsing the shelves and randomly selected this book. It caught my eye - how not, with a title like that? So i checked it out to give it a try.
The book is the diary of Earl Summerfiend. There is an entry for every day of the year, starting January 1. The setting is San Francisco and must be sometime in the mid 70s, based on the context clues.
Earl begins the year as a rather depressed and deluded individual. He’s extremely negative about the state of the world and the people who live in it. However, he’s very optimistic, if deluded, about the direction of his career. But over the course of the first six months, a number of small injustices occur, at work and in his personal life, and we watch him become more depressed and deluded. He starts roaming around at night and getting a thrill by going into people’s houses. (Doors were not often locked.)
He commits the rape on July 4th. He has stalked her ever since he first saw her receiving some kind of award, and continues to harrass her by phone and mail. After the rape, he becomes increasingly paranoid and angry. His rants are more hateful than the first 6 months of the book, but are generally about the same subjects. It actually becomes quite boring, and i skimmed much of the 2nd half of the year.
I can’t say i recommend this book. Earl’s descent into madness was mildly interesting, if only to see how such a mind would rationalize his actions. And he did have some mildly interesting rants about the state of our culture. But, given the title of the book, it was difficult to let myself identify with him, even when he did have some valid points. Once he committed the rape, however, i could no longer read his words and think they had any merit.
I finished the book, skimming most of it, only to see what would happen to him. Curiosity answered, i eagerly grabbed the next book on my pile, hoping it would be a good book, for once. It seems i’ve been on a stretch of difficult or not enjoyable books.

But a buddy of mine read another book by Card which he really did not like, and that somewhat dissuaded me from reading more.
